


a wrong left unredressed on earth

by Carmilla



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Chivalry, Harry Hart Lives, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Kingsman: The Golden Circle Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29265072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmilla/pseuds/Carmilla
Summary: It’s not like Eggsy provokes it or anything.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 44
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	a wrong left unredressed on earth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elletromil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/gifts).



The thing is, it’s not like Eggsy  _ provokes _ it or anything. He’s been through the Kingsman training program, for fuck’s sake, and the Marines before that. He’s been in the field for more than a year. He’d literally killed more people than he could count even before he was officially an agent. It’s not like he can’t look after himself, is the thing here.

But sometimes, Harry will fight people  _ for _ Eggsy. And God help him, but Eggsy really,  _ really _ likes it.

He still thinks about that first time in the pub, the way Harry just went through Dean’s asshole mates like wet paper. The smooth efficiency of his movements, the  _ grace _ . Eggsy had known people who could fight before that, even people you’d bet on against a group, but no-one to match Harry’s cool, vicious ease, the way he just  _ dismantled _ people while they were still trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. When he’d sat down again he hadn’t even been out of breath. And Eggsy had shifted in his seat, uncomfortably aware that he was half-hard and could get the rest of the way there with very little provocation. Harry hadn’t seemed to notice.

He never did. Not in Marrakech, when Eggsy had sprained his ankle making a two storey jump and Harry had made him sit and rest in a little cafe while he decoyed their pursuers into a nearby alley and demolished them. Not in Vienna, when Eggsy had had to let himself get mugged to keep his cover intact and Harry had stalked the muggers halfway across the city and left them hogtied together in front of a police station, stone unconscious. Not in Kingsman HQ that one time, when Kay had taken the piss out of Eggsy for not recognising some operatic reference or other, and Harry had frostily told Kay he was behind on his hand to hand refresher course and proceeded to throw him all over the training room for a solid half hour.

He had tried to thank him for that one. Harry had just looked mildly bemused.

“But of course, Eggsy,” he’d said. “What else was I going to do?”

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? That’s why Eggsy keeps going around in circles. Because Harry doesn’t like all that many things. Eggsy reckons he’s about as close to the man as anyone, and qualified to judge. He likes good food and wine, but mostly in the sense he prefers them to  _ bad _ food and wine. He’s pedantic about menswear, and really does seem to get some joy Eggsy doesn’t understand out of the lines of a perfectly tailored suit, but even Harry can only go through so many suits a year. He likes movies but not the cinema, and now and then he’ll put on a record but it’s not like he collects them. He hasn’t dated anyone in years (and yes, Eggsy did feel like a bit of a creep for asking around, but it was common knowledge, he didn’t  _ snoop _ or anything.) He didn’t even get another dog after Mr. Pickles.

But Harry likes to fight. The adrenaline, the speed; knowing it could all go wrong in an instant, and knowing that it won’t because he’s just that good. He’d talked about it, once, late at night on some endless stakeout. Deep down, he’d told Eggsy, he felt like fighting was what his body was  _ for _ ; and some days everything else was just waiting.

Even that first time in the pub, when Eggsy really would have been in trouble if he hadn’t stepped in; even then, he’d talked about it like it was selfish, something he was doing because he wanted to, not for Eggsy. He’d even apologised to him.

So he doesn’t know. Harry likes him. Harry’s proud of him - most of the time, at least. Harry thinks they do good work together. And maybe he fights people because he wants to protect Eggsy, or maybe he likes protecting Eggsy because it gives him the excuse to fight, or maybe it’s both. But so many times, he’s met Eggsy’s eyes afterwards, and Eggsy’s been thinking  _ fuck, you’re so beautiful _ or  _ please touch me _ or  _ Harry, God, Harry, I’d do anything _ and Harry’s smiled, shrugged, warm and maybe even a little embarassed, and not seemed to see a thing, and Eggsy’s never once managed to say a fucking word.

~

When he takes a bullet for Harry, he doesn’t think twice about it. Doesn’t even really think  _ once _ .

Their hotel gets hit in the middle of the night, and Eggsy just has time to grab his gun and glasses and promise himself that from now on he’s  _ sleeping _ in the damn suit when he’s on assignment. Harry stumbles out of his room at more or less the same time he does, incongruous and adorable in plaid pyjamas, and they’re in the thick of it right away. They take the first assault team down in a couple of minutes, and they’re making their way back to back towards the stairwell when a door slams open right next to them and suddenly there’s a guy pointing a gun straight at Harry’s head.

Eggsy just  _ moves _ , and a second later he and the gunman are on the floor together and his ears are ringing with the sound of the shot. There’d been a sickening crack near his shoulder as he went down.  _ Collarbone break _ , he thinks absently.  _ Nasty _ . He doesn’t feel pain, yet, just a faint nausea that tells him it’s incoming when the shock wears off and wetness seeping across his top as he starts to bleed. Harry steps across his field of vision, mechanically puts two bullets in the head of the man he’s on top of, and Eggsy manages to pull himself upright as Harry throws himself at the second wave.

He almost wishes he hadn’t. There’s nothing graceful or efficient about Harry in this fight. If there’s a word for what he’s doing, it’s butchery. At least it’s over fast.

Eggsy doesn’t remember the next couple of hours very well; just Harry’s face, terribly pale as it bent over him, and Harry’s arm wrapped tightly around his ribs as they staggered up the stairs towards the roof and the helicopter Merlin had waiting to extract them, and Harry’s voice, tense and agitated as he fades in and out of consciousness.

When he comes properly back to himself, he’s in the Kingsman medical centre. Harry’s sitting in a chair beside his bed; there’s a newspaper open on his lap but it doesn’t look like he’s reading it.

“Hey, Harry,” he manages. His throat feels dry.

“Eggsy!” Harry almost bolts out of his chair, and doesn’t let Eggsy say another word before he heads off to fetch a doctor, and then proceeds to irritate the hell out of the poor woman by pacing the length of the room all through her examination. By the time Eggsy’s reassured her that he’s feeling fine (other than his shoulder hurting like fuck, of course), she seems glad to get out of there.

“Harry, you know if you make another doctor resign in protest Merlin’s going to skin you, right?” Eggsy tries - but Harry’s obviously not in a bantering mood.

“Eggsy - I - ” he swallows, moving back to the bed. “While I’m glad you seem to be much recovered, you must promise me,  _ promise _ , to never again - ”

“ - save your life?”

“Not at the cost of your own!”

Eggsy blinks, and tries to copy one of Harry’s own embarrassed smiles.

“C’mon, Harry, what else was I going to do?”

Apparently that didn’t wash.

“I am telling you there was no reason to take that kind of risk with yourself. When you just  _ slumped _ over him, I thought - I - ”

Harry’s got a hand fisted in Eggsy’s bedsheets. Eggsy closes his own over it, and  _ fuck _ , Harry is actually shaking.

“Harry, I’m sorry. I know it’s a fucking awful moment. I know. I saw you get shot in the face once, remember? I wasn’t about to watch it happen again. And besides ” - as Harry seemed to be drawing breath to interrupt - “can you honestly say you wouldn’t do it for me?”

Harry pauses for a minute, and seems to deflate slightly. “I - of course I’d do it for you, Eggsy, but that’s not really - ” and Eggsy cuts him off with a kiss, because he knows what he’s hearing in Harry’s voice and he  _ can’t _ be wrong about it, can’t be unsure, not this time. And Harry, after one heart-stopping second, curls his fingers round the back of Eggsy’s neck and kisses him back. His mouth is soft and warm and just on the edge of demanding, and Eggsy melts for him. After a minute he pulls back so he can meet Harry’s eyes.

“It  _ is _ the same thing, Harry. I want to fight for you just as much as you fight for me.”

And Harry smiles his embarrassed smile, and nods, and kisses him again.


End file.
